


where it's so sweet and heavenly

by sinjoong (undeliveredtruth)



Series: atz requests & randoms [6]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Commoner Wooyoung, Courtship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Military General Yunho, they just love each other, this is just fluff let's not pretend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeliveredtruth/pseuds/sinjoong
Summary: Yunho has gotten used to the necessity of there being multiples ofhim.Yunho as the head military general, the Yunho on the battlefield, the Yunho in diplomatic meetings, the Yunho as a palace official. But the one who brings all of him together is Wooyoung. With Wooyoung, Yunho is simply Yunho.And he wants to cherish him for the rest of forever.So Yunho braves his heart, and makes a plan.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Jung Wooyoung
Series: atz requests & randoms [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702567
Comments: 24
Kudos: 86





	where it's so sweet and heavenly

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I have written something that is not filth for Ateez are you proud of me?
> 
> I have watched absolutely no historical Korean dramas, so my background for this, the way that traditional talk in Korean media forms of the sort would be translated to English, or any traditions that would get depicted in dramas or movies is completely nonexistent, but I tried to do my research at least on the terms, so I hope they are accurate. This is also not set that early, perhaps somewhere in the very late 19th century, pretending that well, history didn't really happen as it did.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! <3

The first person who comes to know of Yunho’s intentions is, of course, Hongjoong. Both as the person Yunho respects the most in this world, the one he considers the closest to him, and of course, as the king.

Considering how many times he had to cover for Hongjoong when he was late from his own “meetings” with Seonghwa, his Chief Royal Secretary, he thinks Hongjoong might be a little understanding of his wishes.

“I do not wish to ruin your reputation,” Yunho admits, his robes, his rank badge, heavier than ever. Hongjoong’s military general of 1st rank, the commander of his army.

“Please, what reputation?” Hongjoong waves a hand at Yunho, almost painfully casual with the _Irworobongdo_ behind him, lounging inappropriately in front of the small table. “Everybody probably invokes their gods every time they think about me and the immorality I bring to this country, so don’t worry at all. For me, what is most important that you’re happy.”

And so, the next time Yunho comes over from one of his missions, with the knowledge that he will get to see Wooyoung that evening, his heart is both a little heavier and a little lighter at the same time.

He forgets it all when he sees Wooyoung waiting for him in his chambers, smiling at him as Yunho enters the room.

Yunho cannot get to him quickly enough, lifting Wooyoung in his arms and reveling in the ringing laughter filling the room from corner to corner, enveloping him. There was nothing else he took with him in his mission, nothing else but the memory of Wooyoung’s weight in his arms and the hope, the burning _desire_ to hold him again.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” Yunho beams at Wooyoung, finally feeling like he has _air_ in his lungs after not being able to breathe for _weeks_. Wooyoung breathes life straight into him, turns everything into light, blooms flowers in Yunho’s chest, and Yunho wants nothing else on his earth than to be able to worship Wooyoung for the rest of his life.

“There’s a pretty girl in our neighborhood, the butcher‘s daughter, my parents are hinting at.”

“And? You want to marry her?” Yunho kisses up Wooyoung’s neck, Wooyoung letting out a low moan from his place in Yunho’s lap.

“I mean, she is sort of pretty...” Yunho’s insistent hand under his blouse grabs at where his lower back meets his behind, _grips._ “And, _ah_ , she’s well off…” Wooyoung continues, his tone the slightest bit strangled from Yunho’s eager hands on his bare skin. “Her dowry would be nothing to be ashamed of…”

The slight smirk on Yunho’s face turns the questioning moan he buries in Wooyoung’s cheek teasing.

“But no. I do not. _Never,”_ Wooyoung exhales, affected. His hands make their way to Yunho’s hair, holding and pulling for dear life, enough to move Yunho’s head to the side so Wooyoung can capture his lips with his own, reassurance and expression of desire all in one.

Woooyung has waited for Yunho as much as Yunho has, burning insistence that can be soothed by nothing, nothing but ruining and being ruined. Yunho identifies it easily in the hungry touch to Wooyoung’s lips, like all he has waited for was to _devour_ Yunho again.

Maybe he has, and the other being in Yunho begs for the same thing, to _give_ and _take_ to make up for all the time they were apart.

But he has another purpose today, he thinks warmly, painfully pulling away from the addicting taste of Wooyoung’s lips.

“Wooyoung…” His hands on Wooyoung’s waist, Yunho pushes him at a palm width away from his own chest, so he can look into his eyes. “My love, I…”

There is an unbounded warmth there, in the depths of Wooyoung’s brown eyes. Wooyoung loves Yunho for what he is, not for what he does; when Yunho comes home, heart heavy and stained with blood on his hands, Wooyoung reminds him of his humanity. On the battlefield, when prompted to choose between terrible decisions, it is only Wooyoung’s memory in his mind that keeps him grounded, reminds him to stay human and choose the path where the least people get hurt and the most people are protected.

Wooyoung is always the presence in Yunho’s mind on boat rides to Japan, in meetings with American generals, when traversing long roads to where he is asked to fight and defend. Only because of Wooyoung has Yunho become famed for his diplomacy on the battlefield and outside - only because of Wooyoung does Yunho dare to step on enemy ground and trample on what many consider his honor to ensure that reason is not only heard, but listened to.

And only Wooyoung can soothe Yunho when reason fails and he has to draw his blade.

Three determined knocks on the door interrupt the train of Yunho’s thought. The person behind the door barely gives two seconds of courtesy before he barges in.

“Ah, Wooyoung. You’re here,” Hongjoong remarks, striding into the room and laying against the heavy door, arms crossed and a pleased smirk on his face.

“ _Jusang jeonha_ ,” Wooyoung bounds off the bed to bend his body beyond 90 degrees, hurriedly wrapping his blouse around himself. His disheveled hair and the frantic tone of his voice give away more than they were actually doing.

Yunho’s chuckle is audible when he raises off the bedding to face Hongjoong, and the wink the king sends his way does not go unnoticed either.

“That’s quite enough, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong addresses Wooyoung; Yunho glances at him from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung and Hongjoong have barely met in the past while; not even growing up together, trampling flowers and stealing fruit from the gardens Hongjoong’s family owned, eating the same food Wooyoung’s mother made, the trouble the eight of them raised in their early years, could bridge the gap between their positions this late in age.

“Why are you here?” Yunho asks, staring straight at him while on the right, Wooyoung gasps at Yunho’s informality. If only Hongjoong cared. “Does Jongho know you’re out of your room?”

“No. And you better not tell him,” Hongjoong levels a glance at him; Yunho’s long since become immune to it, but he appreciates Hongjoong trying nonetheless.

“What do you need from me?”

“I wanted to give you forewarning, before you are faced with the issue tomorrow. There is some unrest near the town of Pohang; it seems to be beyond what they can deal with.”

“Unrest as in as…”

“Exactly what you must be thinking of,” Hongjoong nods, more than serious, revealing the likely gravity of the issue. “I need you to prepare for whatever it is. So… get your matters in order.”

If it is so, Yunho will most likely be gone for a few weeks at the least, again.

His eyes turn to Wooyoung, sitting with his arms wrapped around himself on the other side of Yunho’s bedding. Hongjoong does too, and Wooyoung becomes clearly uncomfortable with the attention suddenly on him, back hunching over himself.

“I will leave you. Yunho… do what you shall.”

With a swipe of his hand, Hongjoong exits through the heavy door, leaving Wooyoung bowing deeply from his waist. Only when the door slams shut behind him does Wooyoung rise, an intense gaze falling upon Yunho right away as he hurriedly walks around his bedding to face Yunho, worry clear in his eyes.

“There have been some… unsettling reports from our neighbors to the east in recent weeks. Nothing severe, nothing to be alarmed about, but it seems like Hongjoong wants no risk to the matter getting worse when it is clear they do not want a war. I have yet to identify what they want this time, but I shall.”

“You just came back. Do you have to go again?” Wooyoung’s bottom lip juts out. Yunho chuckles at the childish question, swiping a strand of unruly hair behind Wooyoung’s ear. They so rarely give themselves these moments nowadays, these small indulgences to be someones with so much less on their shoulders, that even as Wooyoung himself knows deep inside himself Yunho has to, he cannot help but allow themselves that little bit of ground.

“I don’t know. Will you give me a reason to stay?” he teases with a smile, his now cold hand absorbing the heat of Wooyoung’s bright red cheeks.

“Am I not enough, my good sir?” Wooyoung’s pout turns quickly into a grin enveloping his entire face as he stands up on his tiptoes to throw his arms around Yunho’s neck and bring their faces closer together. “Is there something else you want from me? Something else I can give you?”

“Maybe,” Yunho teases, bending down to pick up Wooyoung in his arms. The surprised squeal Wooyoung lets out is probably audible through the whole wing, Yunho quickly silencing him with a kiss. He takes a knee to the bedding and another one, slowly lowering Wooyoung down and hovering over his figure.

The pillowy soft lips on his are salvation and hope alike, Wooyoung’s low sounds ringing through Yunho’s ears and through his weak, weak heart. Like always, it is easy to come back and so, so difficult to leave.

Yunho lets Wooyoung roll them over, Yunho’s back now to the bedding and Wooyoung at home above him, cradling his thighs in his. The ends of his hair tickle Yunho’s skin when Wooyoung captures his lips in his with the determination that is so characteristic of him, the desire to burn his mark deep into Yunho’s soul like Yunho is not his in any way that he knows. Yunho takes advantage of a small lull, the second of rest of Wooyoung’s forehead on his and the deep eyes burning into his own.

“Wooyoung…” he asks, reverently, quietly, with all the carefulness of a court clown treading on a tightrope knowing his death is at the bottom. His heart beats intensely in his chest, uncontrolled, the words suddenly as heavy as stone and the most difficult thing Yunho has ever had to say. Yunho quickly reaches the conclusion that nothing could compare with this. Not even the threat of a blade pressed to his neck with nothing more than a word between life and death, not even the harshest of enemies and the most unbearable of conditions.

“What is it?” Wooyoung must have sensed the knot in Yunho’s throat, seen the way Yunho’s eyebrows drew. Nothing gets past Wooyoung, as Yunho is as much of an open book as he could ever be. And yet, it is the uncertainty in Wooyoung’s own eyes that gathers Yunho’s thoughts.

“I…” Yunho’s hands find their home in the dips of Wooyoung’s waist, grabbing tightly, afraid in a grip that holds no rationality. “When I come back… Will you let me court you?”

The words force themselves out, and Yunho looks into Wooyoung’s eyes with fear the size of the whole palace when he _doesn't answer._

 _“Oh,_ you absolute…” Wooyoung suddenly collapses on his chest, tightly holding on to Yunho’s blouse. “I hate you _so much._ I thought something had _happened.”_

“No, nothing, just…”

 _“Yes!_ Of course! Do you know in how many of my dreams I have imagined this?” Once he gets his bearings, Wooyoung’s screech could deafen an army. His tiny fists pound on Yunho’s chest with gentle abandon, until Yunho captures his wrists in his hands and presses a gentle kiss to each, looking up at Wooyoung and seeing him melt.

“Really?”

“Of course, I thought…” Wooyoung’s lip gets caught between his teeth, revealing his insecurity plain as day. “I never thought you’d want that with me. I mean, you hold the highest military rank, you could court anyone in this kingdom and they’d be _honored._ And I’m just… well, the son of a _cook.”_

“The best cook in all the land,” Yunho grins, laughing as Wooyoung slaps a hand on his bicep. ”You know you have always been the only one for me,” he turns serious, caresses a hand over Wooyoung’s side, settling again over his blouse, this time sure. Insecurity is a powerful weapon, but love is an indestructible shield. “How could you not see that?”

“I did, sometimes. But it was always deep in the night, when you were asleep and I was not… and I could still feel you on me, when I dared to look at you and hope that I was not the only one feeling like that. But then by the morning, reality would hit… and I would lose it.” The lilting whisper of Wooyoung’s voice, silent now, keeps his admissions only in the space between them.

“I love you,” Yunho reminds him simply, knowing the tilt of his lips gives away just how happy he is.

With a sigh, Wooyoung collapses on him again, tucking his head in the juncture of Yunho’s neck and shoulder. “My father will not be happy,” he whispers on Yunho’s skin like it is a reality he himself does not want to admit. “My mother will _end you.”_

 _Mhm,_ Yunho says wordlessly with a nod, jostling Wooyoung’s head in the crook of his neck. _I know, and I am ready to fight whoever I might have to._

“I love you too.”

“So… the butcher’s daughter?”

“Shut up. For the love of all the gods, _shut up.”_

Yunho returns to the palace without any fanfare; his men are all alive and at least for the time being, the issue is put to rest.

He bows in front of Hongjoong; the proud smile on his face creates warmth in Yunho’s own chest even if he cannot see it. Hongjoong is nothing like his father; he is easy to give compliments to those who deserve them, and easy to punish those who do not. It is why he is respected even if some find him hard to accept, and why Yunho will fight to his last breath for him.

“Go. You have somewhere to be,” Hongjoong dismisses him with a teasing lightness to his voice.

He’s right, Yunho does. He does. He has someone _waiting_ for him.

“If it goes well…” Yunho raises himself and asks.

“If it goes well, I will write your _napchaeseo_ for you. I am sure Jongho would be very willing to be your _saja_ and send it over.”

“He’s not older, but…”

“In many respects, he is,” Hongjoong cuts him off, sending him away with a wave of his hand. “Go, Yunho. Don’t dally.”

Slipping out of his travel clothes, bathing, putting on his official palace uniform makes it all too real, too present. The red _dalryeong_ with the _hopyo_ on his rank badge, denoting his 1st rank, give him as much confidence as one could have at this moment, bypassing all known traditions of this country to chase something as _insignificant_ as true love.

Insignificant for some, that is.

Yunho chooses to walk through the town instead of seeking his horse or even something like Hongjoong’s modern cars, knowing it would make him more conspicuous for where he had to go. Not to pretend that his robes and the knowledge of his identity do much less, watching as the villagers whisper without any pretense of hiding around him. Not any day does someone like him stroll through the village like this, or with the sense of purpose Yunho has.

Which is why when he reaches the house he has known since he was a child, the place that has fed him, all of them, probably as many times as the palace has, he is both nervous and settled. His heart beats miles in his chest not only because he is _terrified_ down to his bones, but also because… he knows this is where he has to be.

Wooyoung’s mother sees him before he can make his presence known in any sort of way, rushing him in to the small, humble house after he takes off his shoes. There has always been something really comforting for Yunho in the way that the smell of delicious cooking has almost permeated the walls in Wooyoung’s house like a feeling and not a scent, an everpresent, enveloping mix of love and joy and laughter. 

“My dear, why did you not say you were coming? I would have made something special for you. My, I have nothing made…”

Yunho freezes in the small room, so familiar to him, so many thoughts rushing through his head that he becomes unable to make out any of them. Wooyoung’s father comes out into the room, fiddling about Yunho too, pulling him in further to the room and sitting him down.

And then Wooyoung comes in. From behind his parents, he sends Yunho a silent look so warm, so full of love, so… _Wooyoung_ , that Yunho cannot hold back the smile blooming over his face, turning to Wooyoung’s parents.

“I…” he starts, hesitant, unlike himself, and coughs subtly in the sleeve of his _dalryeong_ to get his bearings about himself. “I have come here for… a reason.”

Wooyoung’s parents fall quiet in open questioning, and another furtive glance at Wooyoung gives Yunho the strength to keep going.

He suddenly raises from his pillow and kneels to the ground, almost touching his forehead to the floor of the house in front of Wooyoung’s parents. From above him, he hears them tell him to get up, that nothing of the sort is needed, _Yunho, please,_ hears Wooyoung quietly shush his little brother in the corner.

When he gets up, still kneeling, he looks straight at them, gathers all the courage in his heart. The courage Wooyoung has given him.

“I do not have any family to do this for me, anybody to come here and ask what I am about to ask. You have been my family as much as anyone else has, and there is nothing more I wish for than to make that a reality," he breathes, letting the heavy silence permeate the room while he wills his voice to not tremble. "I would like to ask for your permission to marry Wooyoung.”

There is a collective gasp filtering through Yunho's conscience, a silence as shocking and as uncertain as anything that freezes Yunho's heart in fear. But he chances a look at Wooyoung in the back of the room, relaxed, laying against the wall with his hands crossed and a warm, proud, content smile directed straight to Yunho.

And he feels. He feels it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Yunwoo are whipped for each other in all universes I don't make the rules. I have soooo many ideas for this world but I am going to hold back from saying I'll do more for now, but we'll see!
> 
> Come hit me up at @bbysvts on Twitter or CC if you have thoughts about this or anything else, I'm currently taking requests because quarantine so feed me!! Hope you enjoyed this! <3


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